


Methos Chronicles 25

by Helis_von_Askir



Series: Methos Chronicles [25]
Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:42:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28451820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helis_von_Askir/pseuds/Helis_von_Askir
Summary: What did the Old Man have against Kristin? She didn't recognize him when he took her head. So what's the deal?
Series: Methos Chronicles [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1350058
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Methos Chronicles 25

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't owe Highlander, nor do I make money from this. It's just for fun.

The last of the patrons had left the bar a while ago and only Joe and Methos were left. The old Immortal was busy texting Marique who was in New York on some business and would return in a couple of days. Joe had never thought that he would see Methos, of all people, behave like a love-struck teenager.

“Why Kristin?” Joe asked suddenly. He put two glassed of scotch on the table and fell in the chair exhausted.

“What?” Methos looked up confused from what he was typing.

“You didn’t take a head for two hundred years and then Kristin shows up and suddenly you can’t wait to whack her.” Joe pointed out.

“It wasn’t quite like that.” Methos returned to his phone. “And why the sudden interest after all this time?”

Joe shrugged. “Near enough. So why? Why Kristin?”

“It’s personal, Joe.” Methos said, trying to avoid the topic.

“Yeah, that much I had figured. But what happened? Off the record, okay?” Joe offered. He really wanted to know. It had always bugged him. Methos hadn’t done it for Richie, nor for MacLeod, no matter how much he might pretend otherwise.

Sighing deeply, Methos put the phone away. He looked very solemnly all of a sudden and Joe was starting to regret the question. “Off the record, Joe? She killed my wife.”

Essex, England, 1717 AD

“Who is that with Timothy?” Methos asked as he looked out of the window and saw his young charge strolling through the gardens with a woman on his arm.

“Her name is Kristin. A widow from France trying to snatch herself a new rich husband.” Timothy’s father, Edward, Lord of Manton, told him. He didn’t sound pleased.

Methos couldn’t fault him. Timothy was his youngest child and had just turned seventeen. The last thing the lord wanted was for some older woman to come along and disrupt his plans for the boy.

“I shouldn’t have sent you to Glasgow, David. If you had been here, that woman would never had been able to sink her hooks in to him.” Lord Manton continued angry.

“He’s young, my Lord. I’m sure he’s just trying out new things. Timothy will soon grow bored of her, young men always do.” Methos tried to calm the old mortal down.

Alas, he didn’t. Timothy was besotted with Kristin, though she was nearly twenty years his senior. Or maybe it was because she was older, showing him things he never knew existed. And he didn’t allow Methos to meet her. Maybe he feared that Methos would draw her away from him.

Which was foolish, Methos had a wife he was more than content with. He had no interest in a French widow. But try to tell that to a young love-besotted boy.

Methos arrived early in the morning to discuss some business maters with the old lord when he saw a man loitering around the yard. He kept close to an expensive carriage which meant Kristin was here, had stayed the night, it appeared. Outrageous in this country and time.

That Timothy would be so foolish to defy his father in such a way. Methos shook his head and went to the stables to have his horse taken care off when he saw the servant stretch and reveal his wrists. One carried a circular marking that that even from this distance Methos recognized.

That man was a Watcher and that meant that Kristin was immortal. Well, was that not just great? Now he had to make sure Timothy got rid of her. It was high-time that he married anyway. His father had already selected a bride for him.

When he entered Lord Manton’s office, Edward was pacing up and down. “Did you see the carriage, David? Timothy bought her that, with money he doesn’t even have. And she spent the night with him, here in my house! I will not stand for such an insult. He will marry Beatrice this very month. And never see this…person again.” Edward was fuming, and he didn’t grow angry easily.

“I’m in complete agreement with you, my Lord.” Methos replied. “But if I may make a suggestion?”

“Suggest away, David.” Edward waved his hand at him.

“Lisa would like to speak with him, maybe she can make him see reason. They used to be close as children.” Methos told hm.

“Yes, yes, that’s a good idea. Bring her for dinner tonight. I’ll make sure that woman has left b then. She won’t ever be eating at my table, mark my words.” Edward informed him, relieve in his voice.

Timothy proved stubborn that evening. Everyone who spoke a word against Kristin he saw as an enemy, as someone who was trying to destroy his happiness with the most wonderful women in the world.

“This isn’t about Kristin, Timothy.” Lisa said patiently.

“Of course it is. Father just cannot bear to see me happy.” Timothy complained.

“No, this is about you behaving like a child. You owe your father obedience. And I know Beatrice, she’s a good and kind woman. She’ll be a good wife. You’re insulting her and her family by not even visiting her now and then.” Lisa told him.

“I don’t want to visit her and I most definitely don’t want to marry her.” Timothy stated springing to his feet. “I’m going to marry Kristin.”

That statement shocked everyone into silence. Having her as a mistress was already scandalous, but actually marrying her, unthinkable! Edward stood up looking thunderous. “You’ll do no such thing. You’ll marry Beatrice, as it was agreed.”

“I never agreed to this. Nor did she. You made that decision the day I was born, no one ever consulted me. This is my life, I decided what to do with it.” Timothy argued.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Simone, his mother, exclaimed. “You will do as your father says.”

“Or what?” Timothy challenged.

“Or I’ll cut you off. Let’s see how much this Kristin…person loves you as much as she claims when you have to go begging in the streets.” Edward announced triumphantly.

That shut the boy up. Following ones heart was one thing, doing it without any money was quite another. And this situation was not so much about love, though Methos was sure the boy loved Kristin, or at least believed he did, but about being his own man. And it wasn’t only the money, Timothy would have no access to his usual social circles either, his father would make sure of that. He would have nowhere to turn for help.

Timothy looked for help from his mother but there was no sympathy there. Lisa and Methos kept their silence, this was a family matter and they shouldn’t interfere more than they already had.

Finally Timothy sat down defeated. “Alright, I’ll marry Beatrice.”

“And you’ll send Kristin away.” His mother insisted.

Dejectedly Timothy nodded. It appeared his love wasn’t as great as he had though it was. But it was for the best. What future would he have had with Kristin? Especially as an outcast?

Methos hoped that some peace would now return to the family.

Timothy broke the news to Kristin the very next day in her house, also paid for by him, with his father’s money. She didn’t take it very well and Timothy fled when the tears started to flow and the furniture started to fly. Apparently her wails and screams of outrage could be heard all the way down the street. French women, so emotional.

Methos and Edward were working in his study when Methos suddenly felt the presence of another Immortal. Had Kristin dared to return? Before he could think of an excuse to go investigate the screaming started.

Both men ran out to see what had happened. They found Simone at the end of the stairs, cradling a blood-covered Timothy in her arms.

“She killed him! That witch killed my boy!” Simone screamed at them. And it was clear form poor Timothy’s broken eyes that he was beyond help and that he had been surprised by the attack. Never turn your back on a woman you had just left and offer her your back to run you through, and never let her in your house again, a lesson Methos had learned a long time ago.

“My Lord! My Lord!” One of the maids came running. “It’s the Lady Lisa! I fear she’s dead.”

Methos suddenly felt as if he had been dumped into ice water. Kristin wouldn’t hurt Lisa, would she? There was no reason to. No, the maid had to be mistaken. Lisa had to be alright.

“Where is she? Take me to her.” He ordered the girl and together they ran off into the back garden.

Lisa way lying on the grass as if asleep. Carefully, Methos knelt next to her and turned her over. Her throat had been cut with one vicious slash. The maid had been right, Lisa was dead.

“The woman who did this, where is she?” Methos wanted to know. His voice dead-cold. Death was rising from the depths of his soul, he could feel him looking forward to cutting Kristin to pieces.

“She ran that way, my Lord. There was a carriage waiting.” The girl explained shaken.

So Kristin had planned this. She had come here with the intent to kill Timothy. Maybe even Lisa. Methos cradled his dead wife in his arms. He would find Kristin, no matter how long it took and then she would pay.

Kristin had more than her carriage waiting for her. She left Britain that very day with a merchant ship she had had waiting at the nearest dock. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that she had fled to France and that she would hide on the continent for as long as she pleased.

Methos had more important things to do right now. He needed to put Lisa and Timothy to rest. After that he would go look for Kristin. He would find her at one point. After all, what were a hundred years to him? He could be patient.

Brussels, Belgium, 1816 AD

Staying hidden in the shadows, Methos watched Kristin walk down the street on the arm of her newest lover. A general left over from the war against Napoleon. They were too far away for her to feel him and he was always putting a damper on his Quickening for safety reasons. If he didn’t do that every Immortal in Brussels would know he was here.

“What are you looking at, Doc?” Byron asked him and followed Methos’ gaze but Kristin and her protector had already rounded the corner.

“Nothing, just someone I thought I knew. Where were we?” Methos deflected the young Immortal’s question.

“Discussing whether to accept Percy’s invitation to Geneva.” Byron said quite drunk already, a talent of his. Finding him sober these days was a rare occurrence, though Immortals had a hard time getting drunk or high. “I think we should, I want to meet that new wife of his. A beautiful angel, according to him.”

“All woman are beautiful angels to him once he’s drunk enough.” Methos pointed out.

Byron laughed loudly at that and they both continued on their way to their hotel. “True, but he was quite sober when he married her, or so he assured me.”

Methos shrugged. Kristin was currently out of his reach and he wasn’t obsessed with getting her head anymore. He’d try again in a decade or two. Then I guess Geneva it is.”

Present Day

“And you just let her go?” Joe asked unconvinced.

Methos contemplated the depths of beer glass for a long moment. “Life went on, Joe. Other things occupied my mind. I quite forgot about her until she moved to Seacouver.”

“You forgot about her?” Joe’s tone made it clear that he didn’t believe a word of that.

“Okay, maybe not forgot about her, but tried not to think about her and kept busy with other stuff.” Methos corrected himself.

“Why didn’t you tell Mac about this? Don’t you think he would have understood? Even he would have taken her head then.” Joe pointed out.

“I know, that’s why I didn’t tell him.” Methos said quietly.

Jos stared at him for a long moment. “You manipulative son of a bitch.” He shook his head. “You wanted to be the one to take her head? So, why all that grand talk about getting rid of one’s enemies, not turning your back, riling him up like that, just stopping short of pushing him at her with his sword ready? Just to make sure he _didn’t_ take her head? How the hell could you be sure he wouldn’t?”

Methos smiled a little. “Because he’s Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod.”

When Methos returned home he looked through his messages again. Joe might take him for a love-struck teenager, but what he and Marique had been texting about had nothing to do with that. At least not in the way the old Watcher thought. They had argued about whether or not Methos should answer Joe’s questions that particular night. Marique had told him that Joe would be asking about Kristin, she wasn’t one to dictate others on how to live their lives, but on this she had been adamant.

If he weren’t used to her abilities, he would be totally freaked out, but he knew and he knew her. He trusted her, more than most.

He looked at the first message she had him. _Answer his questions truthfully!!!_

Methos smiled. Three exclamation marks to make sure he got her point. He had still argued with her, just for fun, and because he had a reputation to uphold. She had won in the end, of course, but it still had been worth it because she had resorted to threats eventually and he looked forward to be on the receiving end of all of them.

Putting the phone away, Methos sighed. Lisa had been quite different from Marique but she still had gotten what she wanted, in the few cases she thought it important enough. Back then women had to be very careful in choosing their battles. Thankfully, she hadn’t fought Edward on his decision to have them both marry. It hadn’t been a perfect marriage, but compared to some of the others, it had turned out okay, no matter how it had ended.

Essex, England, 1710 AD

Straightening his jacket, Methos looked around the church waiting for his future wife, number 51, or 52. He would have to check his journals to make sure. They sometimes blurred into each other, especially when he had more than one at the same time, like back when he had been living in China and the emperor had handed them out like candy.

“Nervous?” Simone asked. Since his bride had been orphaned at a very young age, Lord and Lady Manton, as her wardens, stood in place of her parents. Methos had met Lisa once before, several years ago. She had seemed perfectly nice then, so he wasn’t too worried about them getting along.

“No, not nervous, just anticipatory.” Methos corrected.

“Lisa is a good girl, she’ll be a good wife to you. You’ll see.” Lady Manton assured him.

Methos smiled at her. “I’m sure she will be, coming from your family, after all.”

“Ah yes, I live her as if she were my own flesh and blood.” Lady Manton sighed. “So make sure you treat her right or you’ll have to face my wrath.”

Lord Manton had overheard them and gently took his wife’s arm. “Don’t scare the poor boy away, dear. He has to work for me, after all.”

Sharing a smile, the three of them turned when Lisa entered the church with her maid. She looked adorable and pretty. Lady Manton had had a new dress made for her to celebrate the occasion and it looked very, very good on her. Her dark brown hair was flowing down her back covered only by a thin veil. The perfect virginal bride. Not that Methos cared whether Lisa was a virgin or not, but he appreciated the effort.

Lisa smiled shyly up at him and then they both turned to the priest to begin the ceremony.

Present Day

Joe of course told MacLeod. There was no way he wouldn’t. For a Watcher the old moral was a terrible gossip. Therefore Methos wasn’t surprised to find the Highlander standing in front of his door a few days later.

“You could have told me.” Mac said instead of a greeting.

“I could have.” Methos agreed flippantly. One of these days the younger Immortal would realize that Methos didn’t need his protection. Or not, Scots were infamous for their stubbornness.

“Then why didn’t you?” Mac wanted to know.

Methos shrugged. “I didn’t want to risk you finally manning up and wacking her.”

“So you killed her simply out of revenge.” Mac sounded like he was desperately searching for a reason to be angry at Methos.

“Of course.” The old Immortal replied. “Is there a better reason?”

Mac leaned against the wall. “Stop playing your games for one minute, please. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want to. You’re not my confessor, or my mother. I’m quite capable of making my own decision. And you had enough chances to kill Kristin.” Methos told him.

“Did you love her? Your wife, I mean?” Mac wanted to know.

Methos shrugged again. “What is love? I was fond of her and mourned her passing.”

“The way Joe told it, you were pretty pissed.” Mac pointed out.

Methos sighed. “Yes, I was pissed. And I wanted Kristin dead. And I got my wish, didn’t I?”

MacLeod looked uncomfortable and turned to the door. “I’m sorry about your wife.” With that he left again.

“Yeah, so am I.” Methos whispered as the door closed behind the Highlander.

Essex, England, 1711 AD

“Oh, by the love of God, what is that vile smell?” Methos wanted to know when he entered his house.

Lisa hurried out of the kitchen, looking somewhat embarrassed. “It’s just something I got from the market today. I didn’t think it would smell like that.”

The stink was horrendous, like a rotten swamp. “And what do you buy at the market that could possible produce and odor like this?” Methos asked while he headed into the kitchen. Whatever it was he would get rid of it right this moment.

“The woman said it would make me fertile.” Lisa whispered putting her hands on her flat stomach.

Methos sighed. Of course, he should have seen this coming. Women were supposed to birth one child after the other them moment the priest declared them married. To not be with child once a year was considered a shame.

“I’m sure you are perfectly fertile, Lisa, sometimes it just takes some time. We need to be patient.” He told her. He would need to come up with a plausible story how _he_ became barren to spare his wife the shame.

“My mother was with child within weeks of her marriage.” Lisa pointed out as he pulled the pot from the hearth and carried it to the back door.

“I know, but we have time.” Methos assured her again as he emptied the pot outside. “But if it puts your mind at ease we can start working on it right now.”

Lisa smiled at him. “You are a wicked man.”

Methos laid his hands on her slim waist. “Indeed I am.” He leaned forward to kiss her.

Present Day

Only a few months later Lisa had suffered a bad miscarriage. The midwife and later the physician had done what they could but they had both agreed that she would never bear a child again.

Methos had never confronted Lisa with her infidelity. Had never wanted to know who the father of the child had been. What would have been the point? Why should a woman not seek love and solace in another bed if she wanted to? Gods knew he had done so.

“Did MacLeod understand?” Marique asked when she came back. They were making dinner and it was as good a time as any.

Methos shrugged. “Understand? No, I don’t think so. He thinks he’s the only one who can do these kind of calls. But I think he accepts it. That’s the best one can hope for with the Highlander.”

Marique shook her head and started cutting the carrots. “I really don’t understand why you keep him around if he’s always like this. What do you see in him that I don’t?”

“I still think he has potential.” Methos said, cutting the meat into stripes. “if he could just get over his _I need to protect everyone_ stick. And yes, I know, it’s a head thing. But still. And I don’t want to be wrong.” He hesitated a moment. “Am I wrong?”

Marique thought for a moment. “Not wrong, no. But you need to be very, very patient with that man. I mean, like really patient.”

Methos chuckled. “As long as I can take breaks, I can be very, very patient.

End

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year!  
> May it be better than 2020.


End file.
